


Perdition

by Morpheus626



Series: Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020 [12]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Perdition: Hell, eternal damnation, complete destruction.Assigned lad for this prompt: Brian.Synopsis: Gender Neutral Reader/Brian. A rewriting of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, in the modern world, set in 1978. The question, of course: can Brian succeed where Orpheus failed? Can he bring the Reader back?TW: Death of the reader, though there’s not too much detail. Mentions of an allergic reaction to a wasp sting. Mentions of blood.
Relationships: brian may/reader
Series: Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950265
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: Dork Lovers Server Challenges





	Perdition

**Author's Note:**

> I found this song while writing this, and it sums up like this entire fic so well (also Sampha has an absolutely divine voice, so y’all should give this a listen while you read this): https://open.spotify.com/track/6mtnu7p8tkUzlDO3KOoaTY?si=KQv2LxbWQs2UQ65zjmf5lQ

It wasn’t just the guitar-playing that drew you to him. It was attractive, of course, that he could compose things that brought tears to your eyes. Tears, and joy, and a hundred other feelings in between. Not just to you, but to anyone who heard him. 

It was how he helped command the stage with Queen, as well. And those moments, when you were able to come on tour and witness them, were gorgeous.

But even more gorgeous were the moments where he was here with you, and it was only for you. Where you got to see the bits of him no one else did; everything else that made him the man you fell in love with. 

“Do you like it?” Brian asked softly as the last note rang out. 

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, and leaned to give him a kiss. 

The two of you were sat on the lawn in the back garden of your home. It was cool, but not too chilled. The leaves were bright in their changing, as was Brian’s smile. 

That’s what you would remember, just as the wasp stung you. 

You had no idea you were allergic. You’d never been stung before. It was pure, horribly unlucky chance, all of it. Including that the reaction was so strong, so quick. 

There were maybe, if you had to estimate, all of ten minutes he had to try and save you. But how, and with what? He had nothing to soothe the hives, nothing to fix the swelling of your throat until it cut off your breath. 

Not that he didn’t try. 

And not that he wouldn’t try, again, and again, and again, in his dreams. 

He wanted you back with all his heart. And though you knew it wrong, had been told so by no less than Death itself, you wanted to be back with him too. 

“This will be a foolish errand,” Death told you, as you watched Brian mark up the wooden floor of your bedroom, according to the instructions in the archaic book on death and the occult he’d bought (of the many he’d bought in the last three months, much to the disturbance of his bandmates and friends.) “He will not succeed.” 

“And how should I stop him from trying?” you asked. “He cannot hear me. Cannot see me. Cannot feel my touch upon his face while he sleeps. Cannot feel my presence when I try to enter his dreams. How now would you have me force him to halt his task?” 

Death said nothing. Death knows when to speak, and when there are no answers, and only silence is acceptable. 

Brian’s hands shook as he set the book aside, and you wanted to reach forward to calm them. 

But you couldn’t. Your hands phased through his, as he used the small knife to prick his finger, letting the blood drop onto the marks. 

It was like a slap, the harshness of the force as he slipped from his body, and it dropped back onto the floor of your room. 

And then he was there, in front of you. 

“I didn’t think it would work,” he whispered. “Oh my god, I can’t believe-” 

You let him wrap you in his arms, kiss you deeply. It felt as good as it had while you were alive, as vibrant. 

“You know you can’t just take me back,” you murmured softly. “I wish you could-” 

“No, I followed everything,” Brian protested. “I can, I know I can, I just have to convince Death...” 

His eyes widened, and you knew Death was behind you. You couldn’t know exactly how it looked to him. It was different for everyone. Varying degrees of either comfort or fear or some combination or something in between. 

He swallowed hard, and nodded. “And I’m not going back until I’ve convinced you. Y/N is coming back with me. I’ve done it all right. You can’t stop me.” 

Death cocked its head. 

You turned to face it. “I want to go back. I know...it will feel different. Lesser. It won’t be exactly the same.” 

Death nodded. “Food will be dull. Senses, less sharp. Emotions, muted just enough for you to know there is something missing.” 

“We know,” Brian said. “We don’t care.” 

“You could stay instead,” Death offered. “You could be together, here.” 

“You took Y/N too soon,” Brian said with a shake of his head. “You can’t take me too soon as well.” 

Death nodded again, slowly. “There shall be an agreement.” 

“I-” 

“If you want them, you will listen,” Death intoned heavily, and Brian’s mouth closed. 

“There shall be a hall. Long. It will seem endless, though it is not. You both must walk it. You can talk, but you cannot look back or touch, either of you. If you do, then you give me permission to claim you, permanently. And no ritual will be able to bring either of you back. Most people don’t even get the first chance, for that,” Death continued. “Do you agree to this?” 

You shared a glance with Brian, then you both nodded. 

“Very well,” Death said, and pointed. 

The hall was dark, as you followed Brian into it. You longed to reach out to take his hand, but resisted the urge. 

Your footsteps did not echo, but his did. The sound was a comfort. 

“Wonder how long this really will go,” Brian mused as he walked. 

“I’m sure there’s no way to measure it,” you smiled. “We probably wouldn’t want to know how long, even if we could find out.” 

“Enough exercise for a lifetime,” Brian chuckled.

“Something like that,” you laughed. “Since we have the time...I have to ask.” 

“Yes?” 

“I’ve tried,” you sighed. “So hard, to reach out to you. Have you felt me at all, heard me? It seemed like you couldn’t, but...I just need to know, from you.” 

Brian’s right thumb worried the palm of his hand. “Honestly? I thought I was losing it. Even after I started reading up, trying to find out if I could bring you back. But-” 

His voice cracked, and you could hear the tears even though you had no way to see them. “I felt your hand on me, sometimes. At night, I would swear I could feel you watching me sleep. Was all that helped me sleep, some nights.” 

“I know,” you replied, tears of your own falling. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

It was even harder then, not to rush forward and wrap your arms around him. You could feel it from him too, how badly he wanted to turn. 

But you both kept onwards, tears dripping and drying on the endless black void of the floor of the hall. 

“When we get back,” Brian finally said, sniffling. “I’ve got all these different medicines, that the doctors say could have helped you. Could help you, should you ever get stung again. There are tests you’ll be able to take...well. Tests they’ll bring to the house, I suppose.” 

“How are we going to explain this?” you asked hesitantly. “Brian...people know I died.” 

“I know,” he said. 

“My funeral...they had pictures of you at it in the papers,” you continued. 

“Freddie’s had ideas,” Brian said. “We’ll lie, say it was for someone else. That the papers lied, and claimed it your funeral, when really you were just away on an extended work trip. They’ve done it before, lied about things like that. Your parents...” 

You nodded. “Didn’t answer your calls. Didn’t respond to any letters. Didn’t show up to my funeral. You’ve no idea if they even know that I’m dead.” 

“Yeah,” Brian said. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I did try to tell them.” 

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I visited them...after. They didn’t care. Still upset with me, after years of not seeing me. You think death would absolve old grudges, but no.” 

Your feet had started to ache. 

“I could try and stay out of public sight for awhile too,” you continued. “We could move to a different part of the country, as well. Not too far away, of course. I’d miss London too much to go too far. In addition to Freddie’s ideas, which I like, that should help things, I would think.” 

“Exactly,” Brian agreed. “We give it a few months, and the story will hold up. Your work was independent to begin with, so it makes sense a work trip could be three plus months.” 

“Away, writing journal articles and researching them,” you added. “On location, all over the world. No one would have time to see me elsewhere, all my time spent in libraries or a hotel room, writing.” 

“Perfect,” Brian said, and you could hear him smile. 

Another few minutes passed. Or maybe it was an hour, you couldn’t know for sure. The urge to look back and see if Death was following you was painful to ignore. 

But you ignored it. 

“Wonder if we can take a break,” Brian pondered aloud, then shook his head. “Probably not. Can’t do much except keep going, judging by the other rules.” 

“Feet hurting?” you asked softly. “Mine are too.” 

“Yeah,” Brian said. “But worth it. All of it. Any other pain that might come, too. God, everyone’s excited to see you again. I don’t think Roger and Deaky and Fred believed me fully, when I told them about the ritual. But I was insistent, and they said they’d be happy to see you if I could really bring you back. They’re going to be so wonderfully shocked.” 

“I can’t wait to see them,” you smiled. “I’ve missed them too. It feels like it’s been years.” 

“How does time move, here?” Brian asked. “It feels...off.” 

“Sluggish,” you replied. “You know time is moving normally for anyone living, but each moment, each hour, each month...feels like decades passing. But you can’t catch them as they pass. They go past you, and you can reach out and touch them, like touching waves in water. But you can’t hold them like you could while you lived.” 

Brian nodded. “Interesting.” 

Your feet had gone numb, and your legs started to ache. You feared you might crumble to bits and pieces before the hallway would end. 

Brian winced and flinched and gave off soft little moans of pain, the longer on it went. 

You wanted to be able to stop, to rest, to take turns massaging each other’s feet, before going on. 

But you couldn’t. 

The hallway started to feel like it was closing in on you, and you swore you could feel your throat closing like it had the day you died. 

Then it hit you. Your steps had started to echo. You were feeling. 

“We have to be getting close,” you whimpered.

“I hope so,” Brian said. “But if we aren’t, that’s okay. We can go as long as we have to.” 

“What if this was some horrible joke?” you wept. “Maybe Death won’t let you take me, no matter what, and we’ll just keep walking, and walking-”

“I would rather walk forever with you here, then live without you back in the world,” Brian interrupted, his voice rough with tears falling anew. “If that’s what this is, then I can be happy with that. Even if we can’t look at each other ever again.” 

“I want to hug you so badly right now,” you choked out.

“I wish we could,” Brian sobbed. “We will, at the end. Hug, and kiss, and more.” 

You giggled through the tears. “So much more.” 

“We have lost time to make up for,” Brian said, and you could tell how hard he was trying to cheer you on, to keep your spirits up. 

As time and the hallway dragged on, the talking fell away, as both of you fell to the floor, crawling forward as your legs gave out. 

As you crawled behind him, you could see the blood soaking the bottom of his socks, and you wept at the pain you were causing him, all to bring you back. Hadn’t your death been pain enough? Was this really worth it, would it even work?

“I see light,” Brian moaned. “Oh god, there’s light.” 

You didn’t dare look up. “Don’t look at it anymore, just look down. Don’t look up until we can’t see the hall anymore.” 

“Okay,” Brian agreed, and kept on, even as bloodied handprints joined the blood that seeped from his feet still. 

You could feel Death’s rage as the floor of the hall disappeared, to be replaced by the wooden floor of your and Brian’s bedroom. 

Then, it dissipated. “You won. But not forever. If it had not been the wasp, it would have been at 70. Hit by a car, while crossing the street.” 

“Will it still be that?” you choked out as you crawled the last bit out of the hall, still looking down and following Brian. 

“That is your punishment, for beating me, fair though you both did it,” Death replied. “You will wonder, the rest of your life. Will it be that, at 70? Or will it be sooner, or later, by some other method? And you will not know for sure, but you will remember the cold and stuck place that awaits you.” 

The walls of the hall disappeared, Death was gone, and you both stopped. 

Slowly, Brian turned back, a terrified look on his face that eased as you did not disappear. 

You climbed into his lap as he sat on the floor, both of you covering each other in bloodied handprints as you touched and kissed. 

You were warm again. You felt, and breathed, and smelled the scent of his aftershave, the taste of the coffee he had drank before he had begun the ritual, as you kissed him. 

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t as vibrant as before. It didn’t matter that you would always wonder how much longer you truly had. That, you could deal with. 

He had got you back, and you knew now exactly the depths of his love, and you had never thought anyone could love you so much, or that you could love them back as deeply. 

About eleven months later, you would have a fall wedding. Nothing showy, or big. Just you, him, Brian’s parents, some friends, and of course, Roger, Deaky, and Freddie. Done in the back garden, though Brian’s parents would remark that all the flowers that commonly attracted bees and wasps had been pulled, others left to die. 

But it was beautiful all the same to you and Brian, and that was all that mattered. Death of no kind could bother the two of you now. 


End file.
